The widely anticipated meeting between US President Donald Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping in Busan, South Korea, marks a key inflection point in the simmering second US-China trade war.
Held on October 30, 2025, the summit was the first face-to-face engagement between the two leaders since 2019, and it unfolded against a backdrop of economic strain, geopolitical manoeuvring, and strategic brinkmanship.
Trump arrived in South Korea to a warm reception, capping off a whirlwind tour through Kuala Lumpur and Tokyo.
In Seoul, he finalised a major investment and tariff agreement with South Korean President Lee Jae Myung, and discussed sensitive issues such as Seoul’s request to reprocess spent nuclear fuel for naval use. He also expressed renewed optimism about resuming dialogue with North Korean leader Kim Jong Un.
Among the key deliverables of Trump’s Asia tour were a new trade pact and rare earth access in Malaysia to reduce US dependence on Chinese supply chains; renewed defence ties and joint initiatives on energy and semiconductor resilience with Japan; and a multi-billion-dollar investment and tariff deal with South Korea, alongside sensitive discussions on nuclear fuel reprocessing.
Yet, the spotlight remained fixed on Busan, where Trump and Xi were set to negotiate the contours of a fragile detente. The summit itself lasted an hour and forty minutes and was, by Trump’s account, a resounding success.
Speaking aboard Air Force One, he rated the meeting a “12 out of 10”, citing a slew of breakthroughs: China’s immediate resumption of American soybean purchases, the lifting of export controls on rare earth minerals, and a commitment to curbing fentanyl exports to the United States. In return, Trump pledged to reduce general tariffs on Chinese goods from 57 per cent to 47 per cent, signalling a partial de-escalation of the trade war.
These concessions were not trivial. American soybean farmers, battered by China’s near-total halt in purchases, had long awaited relief. Rare earth minerals, critical to America's defence and technology sectors, had become a flashpoint after Beijing restricted exports in response to US tariffs earlier in the year. And fentanyl, a synthetic opioid fuelling a devastating drug crisis in the US, had emerged as a transnational concern demanding coordinated action.
Yet, the summit’s tone was far from uniformly triumphant. Just hours before the meeting, Trump made a surprise announcement on Truth Social: that the United States would resume nuclear weapons testing for the first time in over three decades.
Citing the testing programmes of other countries, Trump declared that the Department of War would begin testing “on an equal basis”. The timing—mere hours before sitting down with Xi—was widely interpreted as a calculated move to gain leverage, underscoring the strategic sparring that continues to define US-China relations.
Xi’s official readout, released via Chinese state media agency Xinhua, struck a markedly different tone. While broadly positive, it avoided specifics and emphasised long-term cooperation over short-term gains.
Xi reiterated that China did not seek to challenge or replace any global power, and called for stability in trade, energy, and economic relations. Notably absent were mentions of soybeans, fentanyl, or rare earths—issues Trump had spotlighted.
The only point of convergence was the announcement of reciprocal state visits: Trump to China in April, Xi to the US in autumn.
This divergence in messaging reflects deeper asymmetries in strategic posture.
While Trump leaned into hyperbole and transactional victories, Xi projected steadiness and restraint, likely aimed at reassuring other APEC leaders that he would meet in Gyongju, following the summit. The contrast also suggests that many of the summit’s outcomes had been pre-negotiated during earlier discussions in Malaysia, leaving little room for surprise.
Former US Ambassador to China Nicholas Burns aptly described the outcome as “an uneasy truce". Despite the flurry of announcements, no comprehensive trade deal was reached. The summit resembled two seasoned boxers circling the ring, testing each other’s limits, exchanging jabs, but withholding knockout blows.
The nuclear testing announcement, in particular, cast a shadow over the proceedings, raising questions about whether strategic cooperation can truly coexist with coercive signalling.
In diplomacy, structure matters. The reciprocal visits planned for 2026 suggest an intent to institutionalise dialogue, but whether this truce can endure depends on more than photo ops and press releases.
It hinges on the ability of both sides to move beyond tactical sparring and toward substantive, sustained engagement. For now, the Busan summit offers a momentary pause in hostilities, a handshake across the divide, but with fists still clenched behind backs.
The author is a security and economic affairs analyst.